


Mistletoe Mischief

by shadowycat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21522202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowycat/pseuds/shadowycat
Summary: The staff is suddenly plagued by magical bunches of mistletoe.  Where could it all be coming from... and why?
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21
Collections: HP Holiday Mini Fest 2019





	Mistletoe Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta Lash Larue ! Any remaining errors are mine alone.

The sound of a foot scuffling against the floor by her desk penetrated Irma Pince’s concentration, and with a slight frown of annoyance, she raised her head from her book, expecting to see a hesitant student at her elbow. Instead, she found the Hogwarts’ caretaker, Argus Filch, staring at her with an uncharacteristic flush on his thin cheeks. As she stared up at him, the flush deepened, but he didn’t speak.

“Oh, Argus.” Irma smoothed the frown from her forehead and smiled. “I thought you were a student. What can I do for you?”

“Uh… uh, nothing Madam Pince.” He shifted the mop he held from one hand to the other. “I just wanted you to know that I finished cleaning up the mess that sick student made in the study area at the back of the library, and I… uh, wondered if there was anything else you needed me to do for you.”

“Thank you, Argus! Honestly, why students come to the library and then spend their time stuffing themselves with sweets instead of studying, I’ll never understand. I try so hard to keep food out of here, but they will find ways to sneak it in!”

Filch responded eagerly. “They have no respect for rules! And they’re a tricky lot. You got to watch 'em every second. Can’t trust 'em an inch!”

Irma nodded approvingly. “Absolutely!”

They stared at each other in complete agreement until it began to feel a bit… awkward. Then Filch dropped his gaze to the floor, his cheeks still a vivid crimson. “So… uh… do you need anything else from me?” he asked in a low, slightly hopeful voice.

Irma’s cheeks were beginning to warm a bit, too, as she shook her head. “No, Argus, not now. Um… Thank you again.” 

With a rusty smile, Argus picked up his mop and bucket, ducked his head once, and made a hasty retreat. As the door closed softly behind him, Irma sighed discontentedly and slowly returned her attention to the book on her desk. 

On a nearby shelf a book slid quietly back into place as a head nodded thoughtfully.

~**oOo**~

Pomona Sprout, her arms full of festive greenery, stepped through the doorway to the Great Hall and paused to look around, smiling in satisfaction. At any time of the year, the Great Hall was a beautiful and impressive room, but she particularly enjoyed seeing it at Christmas when Hagrid and Flitwick worked their magic to turn the lovely space into a true winter wonderland.

The decorations this year were shaping up to be splendid indeed. Hagrid had already set up several large, impressive trees and Filius, wielding his wand like the most skilled of conductors, was busy filling their green boughs with color and glitz. As she crossed the room to join him, she noticed an addition she’d not seen him use before. Hovering over the Charms professor’s head was a sprig of mistletoe, spinning in a lazy circle.

With a wide smile, Pomona set down her armful on one of the nearby tables and strode over to join her colleague. 

“It’s looking lovely, Filius! You’ve really outdone yourself this year,” she exclaimed when she reached his side.

“I’m glad you think so, Pomona!” exclaimed Filius as he directed a final bit of silver and gold garland onto a large branch and stepped back to judge the effect.

“I’m particularly impressed with your new addition,” she added, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“New addition? I don’t…” He turned an uncertain face up toward her which she immediately bent and kissed to his evident astonishment. As she stepped back from her intensely blushing colleague, she pointed to the mistletoe that was now revolving very quickly above him.

“How did you get it to hover like that, Filius?” she asked with a smile.

“I… I didn’t. I have no idea where that bit of mistletoe came from,” he exclaimed as he eyed the piece of greenery and berries with surprise. “I didn’t know it was there.” Cocking an eye at Pomona, he added dryly, “Since you’re crediting me for this one, I’m presuming that you don’t realize that you’re similarly adorned.”

Pomona glanced upward and, sure enough, a large sprig of mistletoe hovered above her head, as well. Curious, she reached up to see if she could grab it, but the thing flitted higher, dangling just out of reach. “How odd!”

Just then, Hagrid entered the room with another tree, and Pomona and Filius stared at him in astonishment. The man had no fewer than half a dozen pieces of mistletoe orbiting his head. While the oblivious Hagrid walked his tree across the room to its designated place, Filch crossed the entrance hall behind him, batting at a whole cloud of hovering mistletoe with a mop.

Pomona and Filius turned back to each other in surprise. What the heck was going on?

~**oOo**~

Minerva McGonagall closed the door to her classroom and headed down the hallway toward the staircase and lunch. As she walked along, she passed a fair number of students. Although there was nothing unusual about that, the way they were reacting to her was a bit out of the ordinary. Usually they simply kept walking, perhaps they nodded or said hello, but they certainly didn’t stare at her and snicker as many of them seemed to be doing now.

When she reached the stairs, two students were standing there gawking at her. One of them, from her own house no less, stood with his mouth agape as if he’d just had a tremendous shock.

“Something wrong, Mr. Pennyworth?” she asked with a hint of rising annoyance in her tone.

The student gulped and shook his head. “No, no, Professor.”

“Then close your mouth before flies get in it,” she snapped. Really, what was wrong with the boy?

Nodding vigorously, he and his mate turned and headed off down the hallway as quickly as they could, accompanied by the faint sound of smothered laughter. Frowning after them, she started down the staircase. What on earth was going on? One thing no student had ever done was laugh at her. Yet, clearly something about her was currently amusing them, and she didn’t find _that_ amusing at all. 

Having reached the end of the staircase without finding an answer to the strange behavior of the students, Minerva mentally set the problem aside and headed for the Great Hall. Perhaps a good lunch would help her understand. Suddenly, a rather mocking voice halted her in her steps.

“Getting into the spirit of the season, Minerva? Or are you simply soliciting some affection?”

Turning her head, she noticed the Potions master staring at her with a far too sardonic smile on his face and three fat bits of mistletoe jockeying for position above his head.

She snorted at the absurd picture he presented and exclaimed, “You should talk!” 

Then when the meaning of each other’s comments sank in, they both glanced overhead. Once she spotted the bit of mistletoe that hung over her own head, Minerva sighed. That certainly explained the students’ laughter. Now how to explain the mistletoe?

As her eyes once more met Severus’s, identical frowns of exasperation graced their faces. What on earth was going on?

~**oOo**~

Pomona dashed into the staff room and slammed the door behind her. As the door hit the frame, a faint squishing sound was heard and a single leaf fell to the floor, fluttering weakly against the stone.

Minerva glanced up from her steaming teacup. “Well, at least that’s one clump that can’t chase after us anymore,” she said with a hint of satisfaction.

Pomona sighed and moved away from the door. “One down... too many more to go.” 

Severus, hunched in a chair, looked up from his journal for a moment. “Don’t assume you’re any safer in here than you are out there, Pomona. The dratted things can pop up practically anywhere!” He lowered his eyes to his journal once more just as a sprig of mistletoe appeared out of nowhere and hovered a foot above his head. Without removing his eyes from the page, Severus raised his wand and blasted the mistletoe to ash.

As Pomona watched, another sprig popped into being to take the place of the first one and was just as quickly blasted into bits. Without even looking up, she knew that Severus was right and one or two more bits of mistletoe had appeared over her own head to take the place of the one she’d managed to squish in the door.

With a sigh, she crossed the room to where Filius was attempting to hang a length of sparkling garland on the small staff room tree. Usually decorating for Christmas was one of Filius’s favorite tasks, but unlike when he’d been decorating the Great Hall, today his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Most likely having no fewer than five orbiting bits of mistletoe crowning his head was the reason.

Pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot, Pomona shook her head. “I wish I knew who’s creating these bunches of mistletoe that are ambushing people all over the castle! It was faintly amusing at first, but it’s really getting out of hand. Poor Filch has a veritable bouquet of the stuff following him around. He keeps swiping at them with a mop to no avail and threatening students to keep their distance. Not that he needs to...” She smiled at the memory and sipped her tea.

“I saw Peeves herding large clumps of it around a third floor corridor. If I thought for a moment that he was capable of creating the stuff, he’d be suspect number one on my list, but he can’t be doing it,” sighed Minerva.

“Personally, I think it’s the Weasley twins. In the short time they’ve been here, they’ve shown themselves to be capable beyond their years of creating mischief,” said Severus.

Minerva shook her head. “Haven’t you noticed, Severus, that the pesky stuff is only bothering the staff? If a student was responsible, and I grant you the Weasleys would be more than capable, then students would also be plagued with the pesky stuff. Yes, they’d find annoying their professors with this prank to be humorous, but they’d also target their fellow students, and they aren’t. No, I don’t think it’s a student. My bet is on Rolanda.”

Severus snorted and blasted more mistletoe to bits.

“But Rolanda had a sprig of it hanging over her head at dinner last night,” objected Pomona.

“We all had the dratted stuff hanging over our heads at dinner last night,” snarled Severus. “It was infuriating! The entire student body was laughing at us.”

“Well, it would look rather suspicious if she was the only one without a spray of the stuff while everyone else was afflicted,” said Minerva quite reasonably. “Albus had a whole ring of them circling his head. Aurora suggested that he should join her class and give an up-close example of orbital movement to her students.”

“Is there nothing you can do to rid us of this scourge, Pomona? Magical plants are your specialty, after all,” asked Filius as he glared up at his own encircling bits of greenery with unaccustomed annoyance in his voice.

Pomona scowled as darkly as Severus. “Don’t think I haven’t tried, Filius! Nothing I’ve done has made any difference.”

“Probably because the dratted things aren’t really plants at all. It’s a spell or more accurately… a curse,” grumbled Severus as he brushed yet another shower of ash off his robes.

With a profound sigh, Filius put down the piece of garland he was toying with, grasped his wand a bit tighter, and headed for the door. “Well, I have a class so I might as well get this over with,” he said. “At least the maddening stuff doesn’t show up in the classroom.” 

With a grimace, he pulled open the door and darted out into the corridor. Though he let the door slam swiftly shut behind him, to his disappointment, he didn’t manage to catch any of his mistletoe in its jaws.

Minerva frowned thoughtfully. “No, it doesn’t show up in the classroom, does it?” she mused as she watched Severus incinerate more mistletoe. “It has no trouble appearing in here, though, or in any other common spaces. I wonder why not the classroom? Perhaps for the same reason it’s avoiding the students? Hmmm…”

A glimmer of a thought whisked through her mind too quickly for her to grasp and, with a sigh of dissatisfaction, she drained her teacup and got to her feet. She, too, had a class to get to.

Severus glanced at her as she crossed the room to the door. “If this is in some way intended as entertainment for the students, it’ll be interesting to see what happens tomorrow once most of them have left for the holiday break.”

Minerva nodded thoughtfully as she opened the door. “Yes, it will.”

~**oOo**~

When her classroom door closed behind the last student of the day, Minerva began to tidy her desk. Her final class before the Christmas break was finished. The students would be off home in the morning and the resulting time away from classes and exams would be most welcome… for their teachers as well as for the students themselves.

She smiled as she closed a drawer, straightened her blotter, and got to her feet. Students probably never considered that their teachers also looked forward to having a bit of time off. As she approached her classroom door, the smile slipped from her face. Of course, having no more classes at the moment might also mean not having any break at all from the dreaded mistletoe. As Severus had noted, it would be interesting to see whether the students’ presence made any difference or not.

In less than a week’s time the hovering mistletoe had gone from being a silly nuisance to a plague of epidemic proportions. The things didn’t show up in classrooms nor, thankfully, in anyone’s private quarters, but if any professor or staff member stepped into a public area of the castle they were immediately inundated with the horrid stuff. No one seemed to be able to get away with fewer than three or four bits of the hovering things now. It was really quite tiresome and no longer even remotely amusing.

As her fingers curled around the doorknob, she resignedly pushed open her door knowing full well what was waiting outside. Indeed, once she stepped out into the corridor three sprigs of mistletoe popped into being and began to chase each other around over the top of her head. Gazing up at them, she momentarily considered blasting them to bits, but although that would be briefly satisfying, ultimately it would be futile, as Severus, with his constant assaults on the stuff, had definitively proved. When one is destroyed another simply takes its place… sometimes more than one. Best to just let it go.

As Minerva headed down the corridor, she noticed a figure peering carefully around the corner at the far end. As the figure slipped cautiously into the connecting hallway and vanished from her sight, she suddenly realized it was the Headmaster. A frown creased her forehead. What on earth was Albus up to? He wasn’t usually one to lurk and sneak, though she definitely wouldn’t put it past him under certain circumstances. In fact, although she’d actively speculated that Rolanda might be causing the mistletoe plague, she’d seriously considered whether or not Albus might be the one responsible.

In some ways it was his sort of prank. It had its amusing aspects but it wasn’t dangerous, and it didn’t involve the students except as highly entertained spectators, but what held her back was that it seemed aimless and frivolous, and while frivolousness was not out of the question for Albus, aimlessness was. Albus always had a purpose to everything he did even if it wasn’t immediately obvious to the casual observer. However, other than to collectively annoy the staff and give the students a bit of merriment, the aim of this prank eluded her no matter how seriously she considered the matter. Still, if he was to blame, maybe this was her chance to find out.

She hurried down the hall to the corner. There she paused and peered carefully around the end of the wall and up the next hallway. She was just in time to see the tail end of Albus’s robes disappear behind a suit of armor partway up the corridor. 

Now why would he be skulking behind a suit of armor? She glanced around the hallway. No one else seemed to be about. Oh, no, she was wrong about that. Halfway up the corridor, in front of the door to the library stood Irma Pince and Argus Filch. A veritable garland of mistletoe circled above their heads as they stared intently at each other and conversed in low voices.

Minerva watched in puzzlement until it suddenly dawned on her that each of their faces wore identical shy and uncharacteristic smiles amid the warm glow of a faint blush. As the reality of their attraction to one another sunk in, a faint spurt of red magic zipped out from behind the suit of armor where Albus lurked, flew briskly down the hall, and jabbed Filch between his bony shoulder blades. The caretaker jumped and fell into Irma, who grabbed him close. The next thing Minerva knew, the two of them were locked in a fiery, romantic clinch which seemed to go on and on until she felt rather uncomfortable continuing to watch.

When they finally pulled back from one another, their smiles would have rivaled the sun with their brightness and warmth. Suddenly the clumps of mistletoe above their heads transformed themselves into a pair of warm gloves for her and an equally warm hat with ear flaps for him. Clutching their unexpected gifts, the two moved away from the library arm in arm and walked off together down the hall turning the corner at the far end and passing from view.

Suddenly everything fell into place, and as Minerva nodded to herself in understanding, her own clump of mistletoe transformed into a pair of warm red gloves and a tartan scarf. Minerva walked quietly down the hallway to intercept Albus as he emerged from his hiding place, a pair of warm, colorful socks in his hand and a smile of satisfaction on his face.

“So you _are_ responsible…” murmured Minerva.

Albus’s smile widened as he turned to find his deputy leaning against the wall, a knowing smile on her face. “Hello, Minerva. So you suspected me, hmm. What gave me away?”

“Oh, it just seemed like the sort of prank you’d enjoy. Entertaining for the students but it didn’t interfere with classes. A tad annoying to the staff but not actually harmful. What confused me was that I couldn’t see what your aim was, and you always seem to have one. Now all becomes clear.”

“Yes, well, their feelings for each other were obvious, but it seemed to me that they simply needed a little nudge in the right direction. I decided to give them one and see what would happen.”

She shook her head, trying not to smile. “You’ve always been a bit of a meddler.”

His eyes twinkled merrily and he extended a hand for her to precede him down the hallway. “Only in a good cause, and it is Christmas, after all.” 

“Well, it seems to have worked out all right, though time will tell, I suppose, but someday your meddling may not turn out so well, Albus. You need to be careful poking your nose into other people’s lives.”

“No doubt you’re right, my dear…” His smile broadened. “… but not today.”

“You’re incorrigible!” She shook her head. “At least dinner will be free of mistletoe which will make the staff happy.”

“Hmmm, yes, hopefully they’ll all enjoy their little gifts as well.”

“A nice touch. Did all the afflicted get something?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. I thought everyone deserved a little something for putting up with the inconvenience.”

“Why did you decide to torment all of us, anyway?”

“I didn’t want anyone to feel left out.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“And I didn’t want it to be too obvious that the mistletoe had a particular target in mind. Argus and Irma were skittish enough. Besides, you never know.” He leaned in conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “Perhaps you and Severus are hiding a grand passion for each other. This might have been just the thing to bring it out.”

Minerva snorted loudly. “Speaking of Severus, you might want to be sure that he got more than just a “little” something. He’s really been quite put out by this whole situation.”

“Yes. Well, if he didn’t incinerate his gift without looking, he should be well pleased.” Albus’s eyes twinkled as he added, “He did tell me just the other day that he needed a new pair of winter boots.”

“You didn’t!” exclaimed Minerva, imagining a pair of heavy boots falling on the Potions master’s head.

“No, my dear, I didn’t. I limited myself to a new winter cloak and a warm scarf. He was probably momentarily muffled, but he should have escaped unscathed.”

She chuckled at the image of Severus suddenly enveloped in a voluminous cloak. 

“Now, shall we head down to dinner? I find with all the extra spell work I’ve been doing that I’ve developed rather an appetite.”

She laughed and fell into step with him. “I imagine you have.” 

He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I hear the House Elves have concocted a marvelous cherry trifle and a dark chocolate torte for pudding.”

“They sound lovely, but the best part is that there won't be anything hanging over our heads while we eat them.”

“No, indeed. Except for the extra calories, of course...” 

“Of course…”

~**oOo**~

Mischief managed!

**Author's Note:**

> This fanwork was part of the 2019 [HP Holiday Mini Fest](https://mini-fest.livejournal.com/). 


End file.
